


back in your body

by earlgreyson



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coda, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:06:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreyson/pseuds/earlgreyson
Summary: looking at the bookshop and drinking scene from Crowley's POV.





	back in your body

Crowley was very proud of trapping Hastur in his voicemail, so proud in fact that he couldn’t help the small dance that came over him as he listened to Hastur’s fading shrieks. So much had been going wrong in the last week, it was _brilliant_ to have something finally go right.

The demon was still congratulating himself on a job well done when suddenly it felt like the lights had gone out and someone had pulled very dense earmuffs over his ears. Crowley stopped dancing and the manic grin fell from his face. Something was wrong, possibly the wrongest it had ever been.

In an instant, Crowley was out the door and hurtling down the stairs, throwing his awareness over the city in a desperate search, reaching out for the spark that had followed him out of the Garden and throughout the centuries. Panic heated his stomach as he search came up empty as Crowley shot out the front door and threw himself into the Bentley. No thought was spared for how the Bentley started to move almost before he was in it, all the demon’s focus was bent on reaching, finding.

But the truth was starting to become achingly clear as Crowley frantically weaved through London’s traffic in a way that would have left Aziraphale clutching at him.

That was the whole problem, the whole reason Crowley was now tearing across the city. He knew the feeling of the angel’s presence in his bones—could find it blind, deaf, and dumb. But that light that felt like fresh biscuits pulled from the oven, like the first sunbeams through new spring leaves, had abruptly and completely cut out. There was no hint of Aziraphale anywhere in London, anywhere in the world.

About two blocks from the bookshop the demon smelled smoke in the air and he hissed, gunning the engine and slamming to a stop in front of the shop. Flames engulfed the low building as Crowley climbed out of the Bentley. It felt like he was underwater, sounds muffled and the world moving in slow motion before his eyes. One of the gathered firefighters asked him a question, the demon heard neither the question or his own response as he strode purposefully through the door, snapping it shut behind him.

Desperation flooded the demon and the only thought he could process was  _find him_.

The heat licked almost playfully at Crowley’s skin as he stumbled through the burning front room. “Aziraphale!” he screamed into the fire, looking wildly about for any hint of where the angel had gone. “Aziraphale! Where the heaven are you, you idiot! I can’t find you!”

The record player was going, a discordant note jangling on Crowley’s last taut nerve.

“Aziraphale, for God’s—” he spun around desperately, “For Satan’s—” Nothing moved but for him and the blaze, the demon screamed out in frustration. “For somebody’s sake, _where are you?_ ”

No answer but the roar of the flames came to the demon as he paced uncontrollably past the shelves. No answer came and Crowley knew that the worst had happened.

This was Hellfire. It had to be—nothing else could have consumed an angel’s lair and wiped a member of the Holy Host from the face of existence. Aziraphale hadn’t just been discorporated, he’d been _murdered_. The only constant in Crowley’s life and in an instant of blinding light he was gone.

Crowley was now, well and truly, alone.

A hose punched through one of the shop’s front window, hitting the demon in the chest like a train going full speed. He smacked the ground hard, sunglasses flying off. He groaned as he sat up and wiped the water from his face. Something touched his leg, Crowley absently lifted it as pain howled within him.

“ _You’ve gone,_ ”  Crowley finally choked out, voice cracking like the heat. There was nothing left, nothing to joke about, nothing to share. It was just a demon, soaked and alone against the forces of Heaven and Hell. But it didn’t matter.

“Somebody killed my best friend!” Crowley raged, voice crackling like the flames that surrounded him. Everything was wrong, nothing was okay, and the agony that radiated through the demon had nothing to do with the heat. “ _You bastards! All of you!_ ”

Crowley looked down in exhaustion and noticed a book to the left of his leg, only slightly singed and the gold lettering practically glowing in the firelight. _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter._ He wasn’t familiar with it, flipped the book in his hands absently. But it was Aziraphale’s and the demon held it tight against his chest.

Inside, Crowley felt crushingly hollow. He didn’t care when the ceiling above collapsed.

 

There was a bar somewhere about halfway between the bookshop and Crowley’s apartment that was blessedly quiet. Crowley didn’t care, he just downed the drink in front of him and called out for another. He felt so cold. He adjusted his sunglasses absently, a new pair he’d pulled from the glove compartment after the destruction of the last pair.

The last remaining book of Aziraphale’s life’s work sat forgotten in his lap. He’d grabbed it almost as an afterthought, the need to have something of the angel’s that meant something to him. The deep green cover was dusty with ash, except for where Crowley had wiped some away to read the title. Not that it mattered.

It didn’t matter that the world was ending either. For all he cared the whole damn thing could get fucking bent. _Nothing_ mattered anymore. The one thing that had made Falling bearable was gone and nothing was ever going to matter again.

He’d been on earth since the beginning, had wandered it searching for something to make him want to stop running. He’d found it, done nothing with it, and lost it in a moment. He’d been following Aziraphale for millennia now and as quick as a thought it was like he was Falling all over again.

Crowley absently nodded his thanks as his drink was placed by his elbow. A shiver went through him at the burn of his next gulp. He ignored it, took another gulp, and sighed.

“I never asked to be a demon,” he said drunkenly, not really speaking to anyone in particular. “I was just minding my business one day, and then… _‘oh lookie here, its Lucifer and the guys. Oh hey, the food hadn’t been that good lately,’_ ” Crowley rambled as he cradled his drink morosely.

Part of him wished he hadn’t dumped all his holy water on Ligur, but a small voice in his head that sounded too much like a disappointed angel quickly squashed that with a, _“now really, dear boy.”_

The world was ending, Crowley was alone, and there wasn’t enough liquor in the history of the world to make the empty cage of his chest feel full.

Damn his immunity to the flames, he should have gone down with the ship.

Miracling up a refill on his drink—honestly the less that left Crowley’s lips at this point was probably a good thing—the demon rested his head on his hand and sighed again in that way one does when all they really need is to cry but find tears unavailable to them. He sipped mindlessly, thought hopelessly that he should have forced Aziraphale to come with him across the universe, should have done whatever it took. At least the angel would have been safe.

Crowley’s eyes were unfocused, staring off into the middle distance as he drowned in his sorrows. A flash of lightning and the crash of thunder shook the room and it took a full second for him to realize that he wasn’t alone at his table anymore. Someone had appeared in the seat across him and they glowed with an unearthly transparency.

 _“Aziraphale?”_ he choked out, his voice unbelieving and his eyes wide in shock. He ignored the slight waver and lifted his sunglasses to rest on his forehead for a moment, squinting at his companion. “Are you here?”

“Good question, not certain. Never done this before.” The angel spoke with a carefully casual cheeriness, paused, and then said quite loudly, “Can you hear me?”

Crowley nodded with a wince, “Of course I can hear you.”

The silence dragged for a moment before Aziraphale coughed awkwardly and smiled, his eyes never quite meeting Crowley’s. He couldn’t tell if the angel could actually see him.

“Afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things,” Aziraphale sighed, glancing down. “Did you go to Alpha Centauri?” he asked conversationally. Crowley shook his head, stealing another drink from his glass. He didn’t feel especially _conversational._

“Nah, I changed my mind,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t just been thinking about what it would take to remove his eternal soul from reality and very blatantly ignoring the catch in his voice. Crowley’s eyes began to fill as the despair of the bookshop filled him and threatened to overflow. He savagely shoved them down, but still the tears rose.

Crowley pushed on. “Stuff happened.” A pause. “I lost my best friend.”

His chin shook with the effort of not bursting into tears, Aziraphale had _left_ and he’d left Crowley alone and all this back and forth had left the demon raw and feeling exposed.

Aziraphale smiled sadly at the weight of hurt in the demon’s voice.

“I’m so sorry to hear it,” he murmured instead, glancing down before looking in Crowley's general direction again. The angel’s hand fluttered for a moment, an aborted move that Crowley would have guessed was a reach had he been of the right mind. But he was drunk, and sad, and the movement went unnoticed.

“Listen,” Aziraphale started, leaning forward slightly. “Back in my bookshop there’s a book I need you to get.”

 _Oh no,_ Crowley thought. How did he explain that Aziraphale’s life work was gone, that the connections he had saved to the people he had known had vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Ohh, look,” the demon drew out, “Your bookshop isn’t...there anymore.”

A flash of shock crossed Aziraphale’s unfocused expression and all he could say was, “ _Oh?_ ”

“I’m really sorry, it burned down.”

Crowley waited while the angel processed the loss, wanted to reach out as sorrow and anger and fear battled it out on his open face.

“All of it?” he finally asked in a tone that knew the truth but didn’t want to accept it.

“Y-Yeah,” Crowley stammered, “What-what was the book?”

Aziraphale gave him a slight smile, “The one the young lady with the bicycle left behind. _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of_ —”

Crowley interrupted him in a rush. “Agnes Nutter!” He definitely ignored the octave his voice jumped there. “ _Yes!_ I took it!” He picked the book up from his lap and held it up to the angel, pointing excitedly. Aziraphale’s eyes still didn’t focus on him but the look of pleased shock lit his face.

“You took it?” he asked incredulously as Crowley furiously nodded and chimed, _“Look, souvenir!”_

The angel motioned at Crowley to open the book. “Look inside, I made notes!”

The demon began to flip through the worn pages, seeing many notes from down the years but easily picking out Aziraphale’s familiar curling script.

“It’s all in there: the boy’s name, address, everything else,” the angel murmured, his eyes distant and sadly wistful. “I worked it all out.”

Something in his tone scared Crowley, it sounded final, sounded like sorrow, sounded like being left behind. Panic began to burn in his blood as he slammed the book shut and reached out to Aziraphale.

“Look, wherever you are, I’ll come to you. Where are you?” he promised quickly because he’s been in love for six thousand years and alone for a couple hours, he would rather spend the next six thousand years being harped on and cajoled into doing good and risk eternal salvation than to have to suffer any amount of time in the profound silence of an angel-less world.

Aziraphale stuttered embarrassedly, “I-I’m not really anywhere yet, I’ve been discorporated.”

Crowley hummed, it stood to reason. Neither of them had had to deal with discorporation, how were they to know what it would be like?

The angel tried to give Crowley directions but he was only half listening, his eyes drinking in the translucent form of the man he’d followed out of the Garden, followed around the world, followed into Armageddon.

“—do need a body.” Aziraphale muttered to himself. He shot a smile in Crowley’s direction and the demon felt his heart jump traitorously.

“Pity I can’t inhabit  _yours_.” If there had been anything in Crowley’s mouth he would have choked, instead he scrunched up his face as Aziraphale continued. “Angel, Demon. Probably explode,” he chuckled.

Crowley nodded as they moved away from those dangerous waters. He would pull the words out later when he was alone and study them thoroughly, but for now he nodded as the angel continued to talk. “—you at Tadfield. But we’re both going to have to get a wiggle on.”

“What?”

“Tadfield Air Base—”

“I heard that,” Crowley shook his head. “It was the _‘wiggle on’_.”

He would have teased the angel further, but the sky flashed and the thunder rolled and as suddenly as he’d come, Aziraphale was gone.

Crowley threw out his hands in exasperation, looking around for a trace of angelic presence. But the world was silent and dark again, and Crowley was alone.

Grabbing the book and the bottle, the demon strode from the bar with a purpose. He had a world to save, an angel to find, and no real clue as to how he was going to do either. But he was the snake of Eden, if anyone was clever enough to find a way, it’d be him.

And when the world was safe and Aziraphale blessedly corporeal, Crowley was going to have some stern words with him. This was getting, frankly, fucking ridiculous.

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't feel necessarily complete but idk where to go with it so this is what you guys get. If you got suggestions on where you'd like this to go lemme know and we'll see if I can get this further along!  
> Update: did some light editing, sometimes you need a different format to show you where you fucked up lol


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